A woman walked into the shop with her son, the bell on the door tinkling merrily as they entered.
"Welcome to Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe. What kind of ice cream would you like today?" I asked brightly.
"Excuse me?" was her icy response.
"Welcome to Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe. What kind..."
"I heard you perfectly clearly," she interrupted. "I simply couldn't believe that you are one of those 'politically correct' stores."
"I'm sorry, ma'am. Politically correct?" I asked, puzzled.
"That 'what type of ice cream' nonsense. Of course we want chocolate. This is a chocolate ice cream country. The majority of people living here want chocolate ice cream. Why would your store perpetuate the war on chocolate ice cream?" she demanded.
"War on chocolate ice cream?"
"Absolutely. This has always been a chocolate ice cream eating country. Why are we trying to change now? Just offer us chocolate ice cream, without any rigamarole."
"But," I was completely confused, "my last customer ordered vanilla ice cream."
"Well, of course," she stated, speaking to me as if I were her young son, "There's always been the vanilla ice cream people. I have a neighbor who prefers vanilla. She's no trouble. She doesn't get offended when someone offers her chocolate ice cream. She politely declines."
"Um, well," I was still flustered. "But last week I had someone who wanted straw--"
"How dare you!" she hissed, covering her son's ears. "Just because Obama is a strawberry ice cream lover, that doesn't mean that we have to allow strawberry ice cream lovers in OUR town. We don't want their kind here."
"I'm not sure that it matters what ice cream Obama..."
Her son squirmed out of her grip.
"Of course it matters," she stated angrily. "The next thing you know, he'll be allowing strawberry ice cream loving refugees into our schools. I don't want that kind of influence around Timmy. I don't know what's worse. The strawberries or the frozen yogurt group. They don't even believe in ice cream. Can you imagine? If they have their way, we won't even be allowed to eat chocolate ice cream in our own homes!"
"I don't think anyone is trying to--"
"Of course they are! Don't be so naive! I'll be taking my business elsewhere. Mark my words," she shook her finger in my face, "if you don't wise up and put the chocolate back in ice cream, you won't stay in business long! Come along, Timmy."
She grabbed Timmy's hand and as they marched out of the shop, Timmy turned around and stuck his tongue out at me in a very un-chocolate ice cream loving manner.
I sighed and began wiping down the counter. My next customer was a middle age business man carrying a briefcase.
""Welcome to Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe. What kind of ice cream would you like today?" I asked, possibly not as brightly as before.
"I'd like a scoop of chocolate on a cone, please," he requested.
"Coming right up."
I handed him his cone, and rang him up. He paid, and placed his change in the tip jar.
"Enjoy your ice cream," I called out, as he left.
"Thank you," he called back, with a wave.
I was in the back, stocking shelves, when the bell tinkled again. I came out to the counter to see a young mother with her daughter. The daughter was looking at the selection through the window of the cooler.
"Welcome to Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe. What kind of ice cream would you like today?" I said, smiling at the little girl. She waved at me shyly, then tugged on her mother's hand.
"Mommy, I can't decide what I want. I like chocolate AND vanilla!"
The mother looked at me warily. I surreptitiously held up two fingers, my expression questioning. The mother's face immediately relaxed into a grateful smile and she nodded.
I leaned down to talk to the little girl. "How about a double scoop with both?"
She nodded eagerly, but then her face fell. "I really like cones, but I'm a slow ice cream eater, so I guess I should get it in a bowl, so it doesn't melt and drip on me."
"How about this?" I suggested. "I'll put both scoops and the cone in a bowl for you."
"You can do that?" she asked, wide-eyed.
"Of course! There's no rules to ice cream eating. You can enjoy what you want, in whatever way works best for you!"
The little girl looked at her mother, who was nodding and smiling.
I made up her order, and she and her mom went and sat at a table to enjoy her treat.
"Thanks for the ice cream," the little girl said, as they left the store.
"Have a great day!" I waved as they left.
Happy holidays, and enjoy your holidays (and your ice cream) in whatever way works best for you!
Sunday, December 13, 2015
Saturday, June 1, 2013
My Office
One of my coworkers commented recently how much she loved my office and how serene and tranquil it is. This is definitely by design. I was fortunate enough to be assigned to a mint green office, instead of the pink, peach, or even orange--and I mean ORANGE--offices that some of the others have. The color gave me something to work with, and I ran with it.
My desk was slightly more cluttered than I prefer...I have since straightened that up. I have my MSW diploma and my IAP certificate right over my computer screen, alongside pictures of our wedding and our 10th anniversary vow renewal.
I like the effect of inspirational words. This corner has some of my favorites: "dream", "inspire", "create", and "believe" on the poster with the word drawn in American Sign Language.
"Live well, laugh often, love much." I really like the "live, laugh, love" philosophy. I found these stick on quotes in, believe it or not, the Dollar Tree! They actually have some great contact paper quotes and pictures there. I also have my books, pictures and my buddy, Eeyore prominently displayed on my bookshelf. The room wouldn't be "me" without Eeyore. I even carried an Eeyore in a cap and gown across the stage with me when I graduated from my BSW program!
"Believe, dream, imagine" and "Faith, hope, dream" are on the plaques. The photos are of my favorite air, sea and land animals (aside from my dogs and cats!) seagulls, dolphins and wolves. There's also plans and a mini zen garden in this corner. My fish, Razzy, was here, but since we closed down the office for the holidays I brought him home and he fit in so well he stayed. I sit here and do paperwork sometimes. It's less distracting than the desk with my phone and computer.
This is on the outside of my door. Hopefully people who enter discover hope inside!
I have added little things here and there...a fountain, additional quotes...since these pictures were taken. The most important piece that I have added is my mask.
More about the mask in a future blog.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Flashback...1987
One of the interns at my office is attending an event this weekend where you dress up in the fashion of the year you were born. She and I share the same birthday, but she was born in 1987. Boy, did that make me feel old, someone who was born when I turned 16! It also brought back memories. We talked about fashion, and thanks to smartphone technology (we were at the lunch table) we were able to watch a video of a VJ interviewing Debbie Gibson from that year. Talk about big hair--his, not hers! :) Yes, I was a HUGE Debbie Gibson fan back then...Tiffany, not so much!
The conversation led to a discussion about music and we looked up Billboard's Hot 100 Songs from 1987. Apparently the number one song for the year was "Walk Like an Egyptian" by the Bangles. How many times did I watch that music video...back when MTV actually played music videos all day! My mom's favorite video was another hit that year, Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" which came in at number four. I was also thrilled to see that the song that I claim as mine, "Carrie" by Europe, was on the list at number 56. Other hits included "La Bamba", "Hip to be Square", "Livin' on a Prayer", "I Want Your Sex", "Fight for Your Right (to Party)", "Control" and so many others that make up the soundtrack of my adolescence.
Looking at that list brought back other memories. Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now," from the movie "Mannequin" came out that year. That was the first movie I went to see on my first date ever (not counting a date to Chuck E. Cheese when I was twelve!).
That led to the question of what were the movies that were popular the momentous year that I turned sixteen. Wikipedia lists the following as the top ten movies that year:
The conversation led to a discussion about music and we looked up Billboard's Hot 100 Songs from 1987. Apparently the number one song for the year was "Walk Like an Egyptian" by the Bangles. How many times did I watch that music video...back when MTV actually played music videos all day! My mom's favorite video was another hit that year, Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" which came in at number four. I was also thrilled to see that the song that I claim as mine, "Carrie" by Europe, was on the list at number 56. Other hits included "La Bamba", "Hip to be Square", "Livin' on a Prayer", "I Want Your Sex", "Fight for Your Right (to Party)", "Control" and so many others that make up the soundtrack of my adolescence.
Looking at that list brought back other memories. Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now," from the movie "Mannequin" came out that year. That was the first movie I went to see on my first date ever (not counting a date to Chuck E. Cheese when I was twelve!).
That led to the question of what were the movies that were popular the momentous year that I turned sixteen. Wikipedia lists the following as the top ten movies that year:
- Three Men and a Baby, starring Ted Danson, Steve Guttenberg, and Tom Selleck
- Fatal Attraction, starring Michael Douglas, Glenn Close, and Anne Archer
- Beverly Hills Cop II, starring Eddie Murphy
- Good Morning, Vietnam, starring Robin Williams
- Moonstruck, starring Cher and Nicolas Cage
- The Untouchables, starring Kevin Costner, Sean Connery and Robert De Niro.
- The Secret of My Succe$s, starring Michael J. Fox
- Stakeout, starring Richard Dreyfuss, Emilio Estevez, Madeleine Stowe
- Lethal Weapon, starring Mel Gibson and Danny Glover
- The Witches of Eastwick, starring Jack Nicholson, Cher, Susan Sarandon and Michelle Pfeiffer
While I did go see many of these movies on dates or with friends, the movies I especially remember from that year were of the "teen movie genre,":
- Dirty Dancing
- Summer School (with Mark Harmon from NCIS!)
- Some Kind of Wonderful
- Can't Buy Me Love (with Patrick Dempsey, yes, McDreamy from "Grey's Anatomy")
- Adventures in Babysitting
Then there were the other "classics" released that year:
- The Lost Boys (Corey and Corey, before they were reality stars, before tragedy struck; both born the same year as me, FYI)
- The Princess Bride
- LaBamba
- Spaceballs
- Planes, Trains and Automobiles
- Throw Mama from the Train
Of course, there were many, many other films that were produced in 1987, but these are the ones I remember seeing in the theater.
It was really neat to look back at the year I turned sixteen. It definitely made me feel a bit old, and not all of the memories of high school are good--I'm not one of those people who wants to go back--but there were some good times. For many people, turning sixteen means freedom because they get their license. I actually was a terrible driver, and didn't get my license until many years later, but my friends did, so their freedom did translate into my freedom. However, I do remember that year as the year I began to realize who I was as a person. I doubt that "The Lost Boys" or "The Princess Bride" had much to do with that, although the main characters did fight through adversity. Debbie Gibson's love songs didn't offer much advice on plotting the course of my life, though they were useful when I was going through breakups. However, the movies and music of the time frame the backdrop for the beginning of my transformation from child to adult...and so will always have a fond place in my heart.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Precious Time
In the past month, three people I know have passed away. All were too young, all were people I wish I had known better and creepily ironic (or ironically creepy) all of them were forty-six years old. My husband, Wayne, will be forty-six in two weeks. While I know that it doesn't mean anything, it has certainly made me think.
Time is precious. We often put things off...or worse yet, put people off...because we don't have enough time. I think of the conversations I never had with these people who passed away...conversations that I will never have now...and wish that I had taken--had made--the time to do so. It's a common cliche' that we all use: "there aren't enough hours in a day," but the fact is that could never be enough hours in a day if we don't use the time wisely.
Do the dishes need to be done immediately after dinner...or is it more important to spend some extra time around the table with the family, playing games or just talking about everyone's day? Will the house fall down if I don't vacuum it and take a walk with my husband and dogs instead? How many times have we put off going to see an exhibit we wanted to see at a museum, only to realize that the exhibit has moved on? We have all been guilty of looking at the caller ID and deciding that we didn't have time to talk to somebody right then. And maybe there was something more pressing--but maybe, just maybe, it was something that could have been postponed and we could have been there for a friend.
If I were to list the activities that I have been putting off "until I have time," I would have a list as long as Santa's Naughty or Nice list. Do I really want to keep putting off my bucket list? Let's face it, at some point I will be too old to do some of the things on my list. Not to say that someone in their twilight years can't go bungee jumping, but I don't think I'm that person! Even when it comes to my health I've been very lax, having a "when I get around to it attitude" about losing weight and exercising. Admittedly, that's dangerous, because if I don't take control of my health I might not be around to do the other things on my list!
The most important things that we can do are spend time with friends and family. Two of the people I spoke of earlier passed away suddenly. Telling our loved ones how much they mean to us doesn't take much time at all--and it is so important.
I think of the song Live Like You Were Dying, by Tim McGraw. We shouldn't wait until we think our time is running out before we take advantage of every moment. That isn't to say that we should obsessively think that we could die at any minute and live in fear. However, we should be open to opportunities to enjoy time with our loved ones, to indulge in new experiences and to simply take time for ourselves.
Time is precious. We often put things off...or worse yet, put people off...because we don't have enough time. I think of the conversations I never had with these people who passed away...conversations that I will never have now...and wish that I had taken--had made--the time to do so. It's a common cliche' that we all use: "there aren't enough hours in a day," but the fact is that could never be enough hours in a day if we don't use the time wisely.
Do the dishes need to be done immediately after dinner...or is it more important to spend some extra time around the table with the family, playing games or just talking about everyone's day? Will the house fall down if I don't vacuum it and take a walk with my husband and dogs instead? How many times have we put off going to see an exhibit we wanted to see at a museum, only to realize that the exhibit has moved on? We have all been guilty of looking at the caller ID and deciding that we didn't have time to talk to somebody right then. And maybe there was something more pressing--but maybe, just maybe, it was something that could have been postponed and we could have been there for a friend.
If I were to list the activities that I have been putting off "until I have time," I would have a list as long as Santa's Naughty or Nice list. Do I really want to keep putting off my bucket list? Let's face it, at some point I will be too old to do some of the things on my list. Not to say that someone in their twilight years can't go bungee jumping, but I don't think I'm that person! Even when it comes to my health I've been very lax, having a "when I get around to it attitude" about losing weight and exercising. Admittedly, that's dangerous, because if I don't take control of my health I might not be around to do the other things on my list!
The most important things that we can do are spend time with friends and family. Two of the people I spoke of earlier passed away suddenly. Telling our loved ones how much they mean to us doesn't take much time at all--and it is so important.
I think of the song Live Like You Were Dying, by Tim McGraw. We shouldn't wait until we think our time is running out before we take advantage of every moment. That isn't to say that we should obsessively think that we could die at any minute and live in fear. However, we should be open to opportunities to enjoy time with our loved ones, to indulge in new experiences and to simply take time for ourselves.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
One Year Later
As the celebration of Pride begins in the Capital District, I reflect back on this time last year. At the time of the Pride Festival of 2011, Marriage Equality had not yet been realized in New York State. June 12, 2011 as people celebrated in Washington Park, the New York State Legislature was preparing to wrap up for the summer. It was still uncertain if Marriage Equality would pass that session, while it had passed the Assembly before, the Senate remained a mystery. Despite Governor Cuomo's staunch support, the bill was still several votes short.
On June 13th, the day after the Pride Festival, Senator Alesi became the first Republican to announce that he would vote in favor of Marriage Equality. His vote, along with three Democrats who had formerly voted against Marriage Equality, brought the bill within two votes of passing. The next day, Senator Roy McDonald of Troy announced that he would also vote "yes" when Marriage Equality came to a vote. I had hoped that the vote might come on my birthday, June 15th, but the week ended, and the vote hadn't happened.
The following week, I anxiously followed Twitter to keep up with the news. Would Grisanti also go against the Conservatives in his party and vote "yes?" On Wednesday, June 22, I decided to answer the tweet requesting attendees at the rally at the Capitol. Without having planned anything ahead of time, I called my husband, told him why I wouldn't be home for dinner, and drove directly to Albany after work wearing my rainbow Ally pin. I had no idea where I was going once I got to the Capitol. As I passed through security, I wondered what I was getting myself into. I had attended rallies before, but always with disabilities rights groups, never on my own.
After getting through security, I met up with two young girls who were also looking for the rally. Together we headed through the halls of the Capitol building--fortunately I was familiar with the layout because my mother had worked there--until we found people chanting. People lined both sides of the halls outside of the Senate chambers, and based on the signs it was easy to see where we would want to stand. The opponents to Marriage Equality held up signs with biblical quotes, "marriage=1 man+1 woman," "You can't redefine marriage," etc. Marriage Equality proponents held signs explaining that "Love is love","Equality for ALL Families," "Marriage Now!" and asking "Did we vote on your marriage?" I was thrilled to see someone from my church there with his daughter, and I stood next to them chanting.
A woman came up to me and asked me why I was supporting the bill. I told her that everyone deserved the same rights. She then inquired if I knew any "ho-mo-sexuals" in a very demeaning tone. "Yes, I have friends and family that are gay and lesbian," I replied, "and gay and lesbian aren't bad words. You can say them." She walked away. That was really the only direct encounter I had with an opponent that night. At one point we went into the Senate chamber, hoping for a vote, but it didn't happen. The Senate would come to session for a short time, then take a recess. Finally at 10pm, knowing I had to work the next day, I went home.
I was unable to go to the Capitol the next day, due to work and teaching in the evening, and I was sure the vote would happen then, but it didn't. Friday I was prepared. I made a sign, let my husband know that I wouldn't be home until late, and packed up some comfortable clothes to change into. I still expected that the vote would happen before I could arrive, but I kept checking Twitter, and by 5pm it still hadn't occurred. Again I made the trek down to the Capitol and through security. This time I found the group near the stairwell. Again, I saw the man I knew from church, and also a woman I graduated from my social work program with, as well. I also saw the two young women I had met two days before. We were chanting and singing, with State Troopers making sure we didn't block traffic. Across from us, opponents sang hymns and chanted as well. Occasionally some of them would come and stand with us, holding their signs in front of ours. One woman came and stood in front of me while I was trying to hold a banner...we tried to hold it over her head, but she was taller, so she still blocked it, so we had to satisfy ourselves we drowning her out with our singing. I held up my sign as high as I could--she had a large Tea Party sign and I was holding a Marriage = heart + heart sign over her head. As the night wore on, it seemed that our numbers swelled. the opponents who tried to "infiltrate" our ranks drifted back to the other side.
It was a long night, but we were buoyed by passion, camaraderie, and the water and snacks that were passed out. We followed the happenings on the Senate floor through Twitter and updates from people who were in the Senate balcony. I texted my friends to share my experience.At one point, we thought the vote was happening, but the we got word that they were voting on amendments to the bill. We were told that some opponents were praying for us--I looked over, and many were on their knees on the hard concrete floor. I looked at them and I saw fear...fear?
For two days I had stood across from these people, wondering where the hatred had come from, wondering how they could be so motivated to deny rights to other human beings and suddenly it became clear. Someone had somehow convinced them that passage of this bill would actually change their world in a horrible, scary way. I couldn't understand the hatred...but I also couldn't understand the fear. How could someone be so afraid of granting another person the same rights they already have? Looking at the fear in their eyes, and the hope in the eyes of those around me, I saw such a dichotomy...and I could not fathom how anyone could witness that hope and feel fear.
Suddenly the word came that the vote was happening. I tried to keep up with Twitter, but my phone battery was almost dead. Then the word was passed through the hallway and the staircase...Marriage Equality had passed, 33-29! I called my husband, but he couldn't hear me through the celebration. My voice was almost gone with all of the chanting and singing, anyway...so with the last gasp of my phone battery I put him on Skype so he could see for himself. There was hugging, jumping, laughing, crying, even a proposal! The New York Times captured the moment just after I finished celebrating and was standing, exhausted, wondering what to do next. (Just once, I would love a newspaper to get a good picture of me!)
Last night, I was at church with the friends I had been texting from the rally. They were married this past September, thanks to Marriage Equality passing. My church hosted Johnny Blazes as part of Capital Pride. The church member who I was at the rally with came over and met my friends, and remarked about how it has almost been a year since the rally. He spoke about how we made the concrete walls of the building shake that night. And we did.
I am so proud to have been there when history was made. Yet we have so far to go. While President Obama had announced his support for Marriage Equality, DADT had been repealed and DOMA had been declared unconstitutional, North Carolina has amended its constitution to ban Marriage Equality and keep marriage between a man and a woman. Suicides of teens bullied for being gay are still reported on a regular basis. One Million Moms is boycotting JCPenney and the GAP and NOM is calling for a boycott of Starbucks. Sometimes when I read the news it's hard to remember the elation I felt the night of June 24, 2011. But then there are times, like on September 10, 2011, when I watched two of my sorority sisters get married, that the feeling of that night feels very close. And that is why I will continue to fight for equality for everyone, in every state. Because everyone deserves to have that feeling--the feeling that I had the day that I got married.
On June 13th, the day after the Pride Festival, Senator Alesi became the first Republican to announce that he would vote in favor of Marriage Equality. His vote, along with three Democrats who had formerly voted against Marriage Equality, brought the bill within two votes of passing. The next day, Senator Roy McDonald of Troy announced that he would also vote "yes" when Marriage Equality came to a vote. I had hoped that the vote might come on my birthday, June 15th, but the week ended, and the vote hadn't happened.
The following week, I anxiously followed Twitter to keep up with the news. Would Grisanti also go against the Conservatives in his party and vote "yes?" On Wednesday, June 22, I decided to answer the tweet requesting attendees at the rally at the Capitol. Without having planned anything ahead of time, I called my husband, told him why I wouldn't be home for dinner, and drove directly to Albany after work wearing my rainbow Ally pin. I had no idea where I was going once I got to the Capitol. As I passed through security, I wondered what I was getting myself into. I had attended rallies before, but always with disabilities rights groups, never on my own.
After getting through security, I met up with two young girls who were also looking for the rally. Together we headed through the halls of the Capitol building--fortunately I was familiar with the layout because my mother had worked there--until we found people chanting. People lined both sides of the halls outside of the Senate chambers, and based on the signs it was easy to see where we would want to stand. The opponents to Marriage Equality held up signs with biblical quotes, "marriage=1 man+1 woman," "You can't redefine marriage," etc. Marriage Equality proponents held signs explaining that "Love is love","Equality for ALL Families," "Marriage Now!" and asking "Did we vote on your marriage?" I was thrilled to see someone from my church there with his daughter, and I stood next to them chanting.
A woman came up to me and asked me why I was supporting the bill. I told her that everyone deserved the same rights. She then inquired if I knew any "ho-mo-sexuals" in a very demeaning tone. "Yes, I have friends and family that are gay and lesbian," I replied, "and gay and lesbian aren't bad words. You can say them." She walked away. That was really the only direct encounter I had with an opponent that night. At one point we went into the Senate chamber, hoping for a vote, but it didn't happen. The Senate would come to session for a short time, then take a recess. Finally at 10pm, knowing I had to work the next day, I went home.
I was unable to go to the Capitol the next day, due to work and teaching in the evening, and I was sure the vote would happen then, but it didn't. Friday I was prepared. I made a sign, let my husband know that I wouldn't be home until late, and packed up some comfortable clothes to change into. I still expected that the vote would happen before I could arrive, but I kept checking Twitter, and by 5pm it still hadn't occurred. Again I made the trek down to the Capitol and through security. This time I found the group near the stairwell. Again, I saw the man I knew from church, and also a woman I graduated from my social work program with, as well. I also saw the two young women I had met two days before. We were chanting and singing, with State Troopers making sure we didn't block traffic. Across from us, opponents sang hymns and chanted as well. Occasionally some of them would come and stand with us, holding their signs in front of ours. One woman came and stood in front of me while I was trying to hold a banner...we tried to hold it over her head, but she was taller, so she still blocked it, so we had to satisfy ourselves we drowning her out with our singing. I held up my sign as high as I could--she had a large Tea Party sign and I was holding a Marriage = heart + heart sign over her head. As the night wore on, it seemed that our numbers swelled. the opponents who tried to "infiltrate" our ranks drifted back to the other side.
It was a long night, but we were buoyed by passion, camaraderie, and the water and snacks that were passed out. We followed the happenings on the Senate floor through Twitter and updates from people who were in the Senate balcony. I texted my friends to share my experience.At one point, we thought the vote was happening, but the we got word that they were voting on amendments to the bill. We were told that some opponents were praying for us--I looked over, and many were on their knees on the hard concrete floor. I looked at them and I saw fear...fear?
For two days I had stood across from these people, wondering where the hatred had come from, wondering how they could be so motivated to deny rights to other human beings and suddenly it became clear. Someone had somehow convinced them that passage of this bill would actually change their world in a horrible, scary way. I couldn't understand the hatred...but I also couldn't understand the fear. How could someone be so afraid of granting another person the same rights they already have? Looking at the fear in their eyes, and the hope in the eyes of those around me, I saw such a dichotomy...and I could not fathom how anyone could witness that hope and feel fear.
Suddenly the word came that the vote was happening. I tried to keep up with Twitter, but my phone battery was almost dead. Then the word was passed through the hallway and the staircase...Marriage Equality had passed, 33-29! I called my husband, but he couldn't hear me through the celebration. My voice was almost gone with all of the chanting and singing, anyway...so with the last gasp of my phone battery I put him on Skype so he could see for himself. There was hugging, jumping, laughing, crying, even a proposal! The New York Times captured the moment just after I finished celebrating and was standing, exhausted, wondering what to do next. (Just once, I would love a newspaper to get a good picture of me!)
Last night, I was at church with the friends I had been texting from the rally. They were married this past September, thanks to Marriage Equality passing. My church hosted Johnny Blazes as part of Capital Pride. The church member who I was at the rally with came over and met my friends, and remarked about how it has almost been a year since the rally. He spoke about how we made the concrete walls of the building shake that night. And we did.
I am so proud to have been there when history was made. Yet we have so far to go. While President Obama had announced his support for Marriage Equality, DADT had been repealed and DOMA had been declared unconstitutional, North Carolina has amended its constitution to ban Marriage Equality and keep marriage between a man and a woman. Suicides of teens bullied for being gay are still reported on a regular basis. One Million Moms is boycotting JCPenney and the GAP and NOM is calling for a boycott of Starbucks. Sometimes when I read the news it's hard to remember the elation I felt the night of June 24, 2011. But then there are times, like on September 10, 2011, when I watched two of my sorority sisters get married, that the feeling of that night feels very close. And that is why I will continue to fight for equality for everyone, in every state. Because everyone deserves to have that feeling--the feeling that I had the day that I got married.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Standing Against Bullying
Bullying isn't new. I'm sure that as long as large groups of people--teenagers, specifically--have gathered, there has been bullying. I was bullied when I was in school. Fortunately for me it rarely got physical, beyond occasionally being shoved into a locker, but verbal abuse can be just as devastating. The old adage about "sticks and stones" may rhyme nicely, but it doesn't ring true.
I remember one full week of school where no one spoke to me except for teachers. The "leader" of our clique and I had a disagreement, and all of our friends sided with him. No one from the other cliques really ever bothered with me. To be honest, no one really understood me, not even my friends. I was a "nerd" who wanted to be a cheerleader. I tried out for and, to everyone's amazement, made the squad. My friends--theater, band and yearbook "geeks"--could not relate. The other cheerleaders never saw me as one of them. In fact a rumor was started that the only reason I made the squad was because my mother called the school and made them put me on the squad. No one knew the hours and hours of practice I had put in at home prior to tryouts.
Being raised by a single mother, many of my clothes were secondhand. I was made fun of for not being stylish, but not just for that. For things that neither I nor my mother could control: for being short, for having freckles, or for being smart. Once someone passed me a wrapped up package in class. When I opened it I found amputated grasshopper legs from biology lab. I, of course, freaked out, and everyone had a good laugh. I didn't get the worst of it, though. There were others in my class who suffered more than I did. I am sorry to say that I didn't stick up for them as often as I should have...unless I had my friends around to back me up I was afraid to draw attention to myself.
Names hurt. Rumors hurt. Nasty things written on bathroom walls hurt. Notes passed in class hurt. Pranks intended to humiliate hurt. In my day, that was what we dealt with. Today bullying has found a new weapon: technology.
Twenty years ago it took a whole school day for a rumor about someone to circulate around the school. Today it can happen in seconds. With texting, Twitter, YouTube and Facebook, bullies have the means to humiliate their targets faster and to a wider audience than ever before. This form of bullying is so pervasive that it actually has its own term, "cyberbullying."
Children are dying. They are literally being bullied to death. We need to take a stand. Adults need to be role models for children. The way that we talk to each other...when someone cuts us off on the highway, or bumps into us in a store...sets an example for the children who hear us. When we hear children being mean to each other, we can't tell ourselves it isn't our business and move on--we have a responsibility to intervene. And when a child or a teenager tells you that someone is bullying him or her, don't recite the "sticks and stones" rhyme or tell him or her to be the "bigger person." Get involved! Too many children are scared to go to school, too many children and teens are seeing suicide as their only means of escape. We need to end this epidemic NOW.
At my 20th high school reunion I was able to witness an amazing event...one of my classmates approached someone I was sitting with and apologized for being mean to her all those years ago. For me, witnessing that was the best moment of the entire reunion. The reunion itself was not all that spectacular. The food was okay, the venue was nice and everyone broke off into the same cliques we had belonged to in high school. But that brief moment renewed my faith in people. Unfortunately, for many victims of bullying that moment will never come.
There are terrific organizations out there dedicated to helping take a stand against bullying and helping victims deal with bullying. A few are listed below:
GLSEN, the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, is the leading national education organization focused on ensuring safe schools for all students. It was featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.
Stand Together, a project of GLESN, was also featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.
The Trevor Project is determined to end suicide among LGBTQ youth by providing life-saving and life-affirming resources including our nationwide, 24/7 crisis intervention lifeline, digital community and advocacy/educational programs that create a safe, supportive and positive environment for everyone.
StopBullying.Gov provides information from various government agencies on how kids, teens, young adults, parents,educators and others in the community can prevent or stop bullying.
Stomp Out Bullying is a national anti-bullying and cyberbullying program for kids and teens.
The It Gets Better Project was created to show young LGBT people the levels of happiness, potential, and positivity their lives will reach – if they can just get through their teen years. The It Gets Better Project wants to remind teenagers in the LGBT community that they are not alone — and it WILL get better.
I remember one full week of school where no one spoke to me except for teachers. The "leader" of our clique and I had a disagreement, and all of our friends sided with him. No one from the other cliques really ever bothered with me. To be honest, no one really understood me, not even my friends. I was a "nerd" who wanted to be a cheerleader. I tried out for and, to everyone's amazement, made the squad. My friends--theater, band and yearbook "geeks"--could not relate. The other cheerleaders never saw me as one of them. In fact a rumor was started that the only reason I made the squad was because my mother called the school and made them put me on the squad. No one knew the hours and hours of practice I had put in at home prior to tryouts.
Being raised by a single mother, many of my clothes were secondhand. I was made fun of for not being stylish, but not just for that. For things that neither I nor my mother could control: for being short, for having freckles, or for being smart. Once someone passed me a wrapped up package in class. When I opened it I found amputated grasshopper legs from biology lab. I, of course, freaked out, and everyone had a good laugh. I didn't get the worst of it, though. There were others in my class who suffered more than I did. I am sorry to say that I didn't stick up for them as often as I should have...unless I had my friends around to back me up I was afraid to draw attention to myself.
Names hurt. Rumors hurt. Nasty things written on bathroom walls hurt. Notes passed in class hurt. Pranks intended to humiliate hurt. In my day, that was what we dealt with. Today bullying has found a new weapon: technology.
Twenty years ago it took a whole school day for a rumor about someone to circulate around the school. Today it can happen in seconds. With texting, Twitter, YouTube and Facebook, bullies have the means to humiliate their targets faster and to a wider audience than ever before. This form of bullying is so pervasive that it actually has its own term, "cyberbullying."
Children are dying. They are literally being bullied to death. We need to take a stand. Adults need to be role models for children. The way that we talk to each other...when someone cuts us off on the highway, or bumps into us in a store...sets an example for the children who hear us. When we hear children being mean to each other, we can't tell ourselves it isn't our business and move on--we have a responsibility to intervene. And when a child or a teenager tells you that someone is bullying him or her, don't recite the "sticks and stones" rhyme or tell him or her to be the "bigger person." Get involved! Too many children are scared to go to school, too many children and teens are seeing suicide as their only means of escape. We need to end this epidemic NOW.
At my 20th high school reunion I was able to witness an amazing event...one of my classmates approached someone I was sitting with and apologized for being mean to her all those years ago. For me, witnessing that was the best moment of the entire reunion. The reunion itself was not all that spectacular. The food was okay, the venue was nice and everyone broke off into the same cliques we had belonged to in high school. But that brief moment renewed my faith in people. Unfortunately, for many victims of bullying that moment will never come.
There are terrific organizations out there dedicated to helping take a stand against bullying and helping victims deal with bullying. A few are listed below:
GLSEN, the Gay, Lesbian & Straight Education Network, is the leading national education organization focused on ensuring safe schools for all students. It was featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.
Stand Together, a project of GLESN, was also featured on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition on December 2, 2011.
The Trevor Project is determined to end suicide among LGBTQ youth by providing life-saving and life-affirming resources including our nationwide, 24/7 crisis intervention lifeline, digital community and advocacy/educational programs that create a safe, supportive and positive environment for everyone.
StopBullying.Gov provides information from various government agencies on how kids, teens, young adults, parents,educators and others in the community can prevent or stop bullying.
Stomp Out Bullying is a national anti-bullying and cyberbullying program for kids and teens.
The It Gets Better Project was created to show young LGBT people the levels of happiness, potential, and positivity their lives will reach – if they can just get through their teen years. The It Gets Better Project wants to remind teenagers in the LGBT community that they are not alone — and it WILL get better.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
How I Became an Interpreter...and Then a Social Worker
I recently watched the movie "27 Dresses" for the first time. I know...I'm way behind the times, but hey, I've been a bit busy earning my MSW and starting a new career and all that. Anyway, I was struck by a few lines in the beginning: "Mozart found his calling at age five, composing his first minuet. Picasso discovered his talent for painting when he was nine. Tiger woods swung his first club well before his second birthday." While I will never be as famous as those mentioned (in passing, why are they all men???), I, too, realized my future at a young age. I was six years old when I came home from school and announced to my parents that "there is a girl in my class who can't hear. She talks with her hands and I want to learn to talk to her." This resulted in a family meeting, because the school indeed offered the opportunity to learn sign language, but it was in an afterschool club. The thought of a first grader staying afterschool and taking the late bus home was scary for my parents. My greatgrandparents had deeper fears...what if deafness were catching? Eventually everyone's fears must have been put at ease, because I joined sign language club.
They say that the younger you learn a language, the easier it is to pick it up. Whether it was my age, my enthusiasm, or maybe that I am a visual learner, learning sign came easily to me. Of course, I had my Deaf friend--and in later grades, friends--to practice with, and an interpreter in class to watch. In second grade there were no Deaf students in my class. I was heartbroken, but continued with sign language club. My mother contacted the school, and from third grade all the way through middle school I was in the class that the Deaf students were mainstreamed in. I had found my niche.
You remember the obligatory paper that we all had to write: "What I Want to be When I Grow Up"? I wrote mine about becoming an interpreter. From elementary school, I knew that I wanted to work with the Deaf. Of course, I had the times that I wanted to be a ballerina, a gymnast, an archaeologist (except that I don't do well in the heat), but it always came back to being an interpreter, or a teacher for the Deaf. When the time came to go to college, though, SUNY Albany no longer offered a major for sign language interpreters. I ended up getting a scholarship to SUNY Plattsburgh and became a Speech-Language-Hearing Impaired Education major...I was going to be a Speech-Language Pathologist for Deaf kids. Except that in my first few semesters we spent less than one class talking about deafness--and it was from a very medical perspective...about how to cure it. We didn't discuss the rich culture and language that I had come to know through my interactions with my Deaf friends. While the profession of a Speech-Language Pathologist is an important one, it just wasn't what I wanted to do. I left Plattsburgh and applied to Flagler College for Deaf Education. I was accepted, but I didn't receive enough financial aid to afford to go.
So, I answered an ad in the newspaper to be a substitute teaching assistant for BOCES. When I turned in my application, I mentioned that I was fluent in sign language. I was able to use one of the Teachers of the Deaf as a reference. Suddenly, not only was I a substitute teaching assistant, but also a substitute interpreter. Within a few months I interviewed for, and received, a part-time position interpreting in the elementary school that I had first learned to sign in.
The following school year I became employed full-time as an educational interpreter. I worked in the schools for eight years. During that time I earned my national Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf certification. This opened up more doors for me, and the year that I was expected to interpret for 5 students with vastly different needs--American Sign Language, oral transliteration, and Signed English--all at one time, because they were in the same grade, I decided that it was time for me to move on. I became a freelance interpreter and began working for three interpreting agencies in the area, and occasionally agencies outside of the area.
As a freelance interpreter, I worked in many different settings. In one week I might be working at a statewide conference, in a college classroom, at a concert, at a birth, at a funeral...sometimes driving hours to arrive at an assignment. I had many wonderful experiences...and some not so wonderful. I had to interpret for a doctor telling someone that a loved one would not survive the night. As heart wrenching as that was, I knew it was better for the person to see it in their native language than to read it on a piece of paper written by a nurse.
I enjoyed interpreting. I loved doing something different everyday. I liked the fact that I didn't have a set schedule, that I didn't sit in a cubicle or behind a desk. However, over the twelve years that I worked freelance, there were many frustrations, too. I wanted to help Deaf people to advocate for their rights. Especially working in the mental health setting. As an interpreter, however, I had to remain neutral. While cultural mediation (bridging the gap between Deaf and hearing cultures) is part of our job, there is only so much that an interpreter can do without stepping out of role. There were times that I wondered if a Deaf person was admitted as an inpatient simply because a psychiatrist did not understand Deaf culture, despite the cultural mediation I provided while interpreting. There were other times that Deaf people were released, and I wondered if it was because the process of procuring and using an interpreter was too expensive and cumbersome. But I couldn't say anything. It finally got to be too much to put up with.
I returned to college to pursue a human services degree. Then I enrolled in an undergraduate social work program. Originally my intent was to be a counseling social worker for people with disabilities, especially for those who are Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing. As I continued with my social work course work, I realized that my heart lies in advocacy. When I went on to my MSW (Master of Social Work) program, I adopted a macro concentration, rather than clinical.
I still work as an interpreter occasionally. I have some favorite assignments that occur every year that I don't want to give up. However, on a daily basis I work as a social worker. I view myself as a social worker, an advocate and an interpreter. I don't see them as being mutually exclusive. Upon occasion I find myself in a position to advocate for a Deaf person's right to have an interpreter. In those instances, of course, I would not accept that particular interpreting assignment. In general, however, I have found a wonderful balance between my worlds. I still get to work with Deaf people--sometimes as a social worker and sometimes as an interpreter.
They say that the younger you learn a language, the easier it is to pick it up. Whether it was my age, my enthusiasm, or maybe that I am a visual learner, learning sign came easily to me. Of course, I had my Deaf friend--and in later grades, friends--to practice with, and an interpreter in class to watch. In second grade there were no Deaf students in my class. I was heartbroken, but continued with sign language club. My mother contacted the school, and from third grade all the way through middle school I was in the class that the Deaf students were mainstreamed in. I had found my niche.
You remember the obligatory paper that we all had to write: "What I Want to be When I Grow Up"? I wrote mine about becoming an interpreter. From elementary school, I knew that I wanted to work with the Deaf. Of course, I had the times that I wanted to be a ballerina, a gymnast, an archaeologist (except that I don't do well in the heat), but it always came back to being an interpreter, or a teacher for the Deaf. When the time came to go to college, though, SUNY Albany no longer offered a major for sign language interpreters. I ended up getting a scholarship to SUNY Plattsburgh and became a Speech-Language-Hearing Impaired Education major...I was going to be a Speech-Language Pathologist for Deaf kids. Except that in my first few semesters we spent less than one class talking about deafness--and it was from a very medical perspective...about how to cure it. We didn't discuss the rich culture and language that I had come to know through my interactions with my Deaf friends. While the profession of a Speech-Language Pathologist is an important one, it just wasn't what I wanted to do. I left Plattsburgh and applied to Flagler College for Deaf Education. I was accepted, but I didn't receive enough financial aid to afford to go.
So, I answered an ad in the newspaper to be a substitute teaching assistant for BOCES. When I turned in my application, I mentioned that I was fluent in sign language. I was able to use one of the Teachers of the Deaf as a reference. Suddenly, not only was I a substitute teaching assistant, but also a substitute interpreter. Within a few months I interviewed for, and received, a part-time position interpreting in the elementary school that I had first learned to sign in.
The following school year I became employed full-time as an educational interpreter. I worked in the schools for eight years. During that time I earned my national Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf certification. This opened up more doors for me, and the year that I was expected to interpret for 5 students with vastly different needs--American Sign Language, oral transliteration, and Signed English--all at one time, because they were in the same grade, I decided that it was time for me to move on. I became a freelance interpreter and began working for three interpreting agencies in the area, and occasionally agencies outside of the area.
As a freelance interpreter, I worked in many different settings. In one week I might be working at a statewide conference, in a college classroom, at a concert, at a birth, at a funeral...sometimes driving hours to arrive at an assignment. I had many wonderful experiences...and some not so wonderful. I had to interpret for a doctor telling someone that a loved one would not survive the night. As heart wrenching as that was, I knew it was better for the person to see it in their native language than to read it on a piece of paper written by a nurse.
I enjoyed interpreting. I loved doing something different everyday. I liked the fact that I didn't have a set schedule, that I didn't sit in a cubicle or behind a desk. However, over the twelve years that I worked freelance, there were many frustrations, too. I wanted to help Deaf people to advocate for their rights. Especially working in the mental health setting. As an interpreter, however, I had to remain neutral. While cultural mediation (bridging the gap between Deaf and hearing cultures) is part of our job, there is only so much that an interpreter can do without stepping out of role. There were times that I wondered if a Deaf person was admitted as an inpatient simply because a psychiatrist did not understand Deaf culture, despite the cultural mediation I provided while interpreting. There were other times that Deaf people were released, and I wondered if it was because the process of procuring and using an interpreter was too expensive and cumbersome. But I couldn't say anything. It finally got to be too much to put up with.
I returned to college to pursue a human services degree. Then I enrolled in an undergraduate social work program. Originally my intent was to be a counseling social worker for people with disabilities, especially for those who are Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing. As I continued with my social work course work, I realized that my heart lies in advocacy. When I went on to my MSW (Master of Social Work) program, I adopted a macro concentration, rather than clinical.
I still work as an interpreter occasionally. I have some favorite assignments that occur every year that I don't want to give up. However, on a daily basis I work as a social worker. I view myself as a social worker, an advocate and an interpreter. I don't see them as being mutually exclusive. Upon occasion I find myself in a position to advocate for a Deaf person's right to have an interpreter. In those instances, of course, I would not accept that particular interpreting assignment. In general, however, I have found a wonderful balance between my worlds. I still get to work with Deaf people--sometimes as a social worker and sometimes as an interpreter.
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